Page 24 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

He nodded at her phone and snapped out in a low furious tone, “Make the call now. It’s already time for your engagement with Edgar and your father is searching for you.”

She didn’t bother asking how he knew. He seemed to always know what was happening in her home. She’d placed her phone on flight mode so she couldn’t be tracked; plus, she knew enough about security to know there were firewalls in and around Mikhail’s house that turned up dead air whenever anyone tried to track someone in his vicinity.

He placed a hand at her elbow and steered her away from the guests toward the library. Williams trailed them, unashamedly eavesdropping.

Mira turned off flight mode and before she could key in her father’s number, his call came through. She started to answer it, but Mikhail snatched it from her hand and lifted the cell phone to his ear.

She watched him chuckle as her father’s outraged bellow came over the phone so loud she could hear it even though it wasn’t on speaker. Dostoevsky launched into a tirade on how irresponsible it was of her to remain at the salon so long and not take any calls. Then he wanted to know where the hell she was and he wanted her to appear back at the villa pronto.

All this while her father hadn’t let anyone else get a word in edgewise. Mikhail continued to listen calmly until her father’s tirade began to wind down.

“Calm down, Dostoevsky,” Mikhail purred as soon as he could get a word in. “All that yelling can’t be good for the blood pressure.”

Stunned silence came over the phone line; then the yelling began again, this time in a voice laced with sheer terror.

“Nikolai? Nikolai!” her father all but screeched.

“In the flesh. This must seem like déjà vu for you, no?” Mikhail chuckled darkly.

“Don’t you dare touch my daughter, you slimy bastard,” her father howled. “Where is she? Where is my daughter? Mira! Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Touch her? I’ve done far more than touch her, Dostoevsky. We’re married now. I’ve made her mine,” Mikhail chuckled. “I would send you a photo, but you already know what we both look like, right? But hold the line, father-in-law, here’s Mira now.”

She took the phone with shaky hands. As soon as her father heard her voice, he expelled a sigh of such deep relief that Mira was rocked to her core. Her father sounded…almost as though he cared for her. He sounded as though he’d been out of his mind with worry for her well-being and not just upset that she was ruining his plans of a connection with Edgar Ronald.

Her heart turned over in her chest and tears misted her eyes. Had she been too hasty in rushing off to marry a perfect stranger just to get back at her father?

But then she remembered him saying her mother had deserved to die, and her spine straightened in fury.

“Mira, are you alright? Has he done anything to you? Don’t be scared, my dear. I’m coming for you,” her father said in a panicked voice. “Just tell me where you are, sweetie.”

He sounded so worried that she felt tears sting her eyes. Determinedly, she blinked them back, reminding herself of her desire to get revenge against her father.

Mira’s voice was hard as she replied, “Mikhail told you the truth. We’re a couple now. I married him of my own volition. Now tell Edgar to take his wedding and stuff it. I’m already married. Mikhail Nikolai is my husband now.”

Her father’s voice had changed, becoming softer over the phone as he asked, “You mean you betrayed me?”

“Yes. Apparently, just like my mother did. So are you going to kill me the way you killed her?”

She didn’t let him respond. She hung up and blocked his number for good measure.

A sour-faced woman, the housekeeper perhaps, appeared at Mira’s elbow to show her to her room.

As she started to leave with the woman, she heard Williams whisper, “When are you going to tell her the whole truth about her mother?”

Her eyes widened as she strained to hear more. Mikhail’s voice carried clearly to her. “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t let me speak. So now I’ve thought about it, I’ve decided to bide my time until after she’s helped me get revenge against her father for killing mine.”

A feeling of betrayal slammed through Mira with an almost physical force, and she maintained her balance with some difficulty.

“She is willful, and she has a temper. She may never forgive you,” Williams warned.

“A very real possibility. But until then, she can never know I was there when her mother died,” Mikhail finished.

The housekeeper who was supposed to lead Mira to her room turned to look at her, quirking one eyebrow. With a weak smile, she fell into step behind the woman, barely noticing the exquisite furniture and luxury lining the halls. When she reached her room, she entered it and shut the door decisively behind her, her thoughts in a whirl as she thought about what she’d heard.

What had he meant by saying he was there when her mother died? Had he witnessed the murder? Was that the reason her father hated him so much, because he was a witness to his crime?

The quest to find out the truth clawed through her like needles. She needed to know exactly what she was up against. If Mikhail wouldn’t tell her that he was there when her mother died, she could hardly expect him to fess up just because she asked him outright.

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